True love exists. It can exist in many forms. It can enter our lives when we are young, or it can wait until we’re seasoned. True love can be discovered, or it can suddenly awaken. I don’t believe everyone experiences it. I wish we all did. I don’t know why some are able to feel it and others can’t. I only know that I am one of the lucky few who have it, and I will hold onto it forever.

What if some hauntings aren’t the spooktastic, skin-crawling nightmare some claim them to be? What if, instead of the nightmare angle, we approach a tale of ghost activity with understanding? Even love?

In the ER, the trauma code was called for the hit-and-run boy. He was found by police after an unknown amount of time lying on the road in a pool of congealing blood. No witnesses, and the driver who ran him down was long gone.

When asked about the upcoming holiday, I get all tingly thinking about the roasted turkey, the creamy mashed potatoes, the gravy, the yams! But that’s not what others think about, anymore. They stuff themselves at noon and put their boots on and are waiting in stores for the Black Friday sales before their turkey has even reached their small intestine. Oh, but what about family time? Well, hell, bring the kids, send them out on their own little mission to find that marked-down item in the catalog! Don’t forget to put them in helmets and full body armor, the crowds get pretty rough.

The music moved me, music that I was creating with my own breath and hands. It was the most real form of magic I’d ever discovered. I learned in those early days what incredible emotion could be found in music. To a young writer, music became a battery in which I could charge inspiration and draw energy.